


his pound of flesh

by kuro49



Series: jason rare pair challenge [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Dick Grayson is a Talon, Dirty Talk, Earth-3, Jason Todd is a Talon, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22544386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: Talon is Owlman’s partner, or that was the intention anyways.Jason is not quite that. He is a Talon in training with plenty of other uses, muchsweeteruses that get used much more often.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd/Thomas Wayne Jr., Jason Todd/Thomas Wayne Jr.
Series: jason rare pair challenge [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1409680
Comments: 2
Kudos: 133
Collections: Jason Rare Pair Challenge





	his pound of flesh

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted to [tumblr ](https://setsailslash.tumblr.com/post/190612502231/congratulations-on-reaching-200-subscribers) for a prompt from anon, now all fixed up and actually edited. and if it isn't obvious, i still know nothing about earth-3 lol
> 
> intentional thomas wayne jr/bruce wayne that can be read as brotherly affection.

A hard day’s work makes Talon a dull boy if there isn’t any fun to be had at the end of that day.

And Owlman agrees. There is always time for some play time even if the man has to physically carve it out of the day for his pound of flesh.

Jason is in their bed. Not quite centerfold.

But he’s got the dark mob of his hair hiding most of his face, cheek turned against the sheets, stark naked and lying on his front with his legs folded neatly under him.

It can’t be a particularly comfortable position but he holds it perfectly.

After this many nights, after so many in those early days where Jason bodily learned the consequences of going against Owlman’s words, he can now hold the position without twitching a muscle for a very long time. Eyes sliding shut, his breathing eases out to a near flat line as seconds and minutes and hours trickle by in steady increments.

Jason wakes at the first touch.

He doesn’t startle, nothing that violent at all. He comes to with the tip of Talon’s fingernail dragging almost dauntingly up the raised bumps of his vertebral column, going from coccyx to lumbar to his thoracic spine before slowing down at the cervical spine. If dealt, the severity of the damage getting incrementally critical the higher up he goes.

Talon’s fingers stall there, curling over the nape of Jason’s neck. In place of a killing blow, his grip goes gentle when Talon turns Jason's head so they can watch the way his eyes blink open. Bleary and just a lil'bit bloodshot. There is no hint of trepidation to Jason's gaze while his mouth pulls thinly into a smile.

One that slow crawls to reach the pretty blue of his eyes when he truly registers their figures in the room.

“Slim pickings tonight?” Jason asks. Because it’s early by their count. 

“Picked off all the ones we needed to." Owlman tells him, dropping his utility belt to the ground with a heavy thud.

"So we can come back to _you_ , little wing.” Talon adds, already halfway out of his costume, every movement made carelessly smooth, like the slide of silk just before it is pulled into an impossible knot. His eyes are wane, in blue slits. An upturn of his mouth and there's nothing but teeth in his answer. “Couldn’t have you warming an empty bed all night.“ 

Talon is Owlman’s partner, or that was the intention anyways.

Jason is not quite that. He is a Talon in training with plenty of other uses, much _sweeter_ uses that get used much more often.

Out of these sheets, Jason’s a heavy hitter on the streets owned by the fears cast over by Owlman. Knuckles all rough, scars running like tendrils over his hands, callouses building up on top of each other when he swings and he _swings_ and he lands every last one on its intended target with a resultingly solid thud.

In them, his knees sink into the mattress with considerable weight, Jason spreads his legs for them without being asked. 

And there’s the rush of blood beneath his skin, flushing him all pink, his cock hanging hard, having dripped precum to stain a patch into the sheets where he settled in their bed long before they came home to him.

"The Man gets first picks and he wants to fuck you just the way he likes you. Until your hole is all sloppy and loose,” the pad of Talon’s fingers push gingerly against his rim, “it’s going to be fuckin’ messy when he comes inside. Probably once or twice, or however many times he’s going to until he empties his balls in you." 

Talon doesn’t go by Richard even if that is the name his parents gave him. He goes by Dick, in love with the obscenity to it, _especially_ when he gets Jason begging him for dick. 

He barely pauses for breath.

"And then I’ll have you bouncing in my lap, working yourself on my cock, going up and down and up and down,” and Dick says this with a rhythm in his voice, like a wave washing into shore, undulating and tauntingly slow when he is barely pressing a fingertip in, “either until I can feel you wrapping your tight little ass around me again or the sun comes up. Whichever comes first, okay?”

That last word almost coming out as a coo.

Even if some requests are impossible ones, Jason likes an outline of how his night is supposed to go, it provides expectations that he can go about fulfilling.

It's utterly unfair when it's daily where they like to use him, sometimes with him taking both of them at once, sometimes with barely than a little bit of spit as lube. His body is a warm welcoming hole to sink their cocks inside when they want and how they want him. Ridden hard and put away wet, he is a perfect picture of debauchery every night: Dripping their combined semen from down between his ass, the imprint of their teeth bloody on his inner thighs, bottom lip split, hair sore at the roots where they like to yank, jaw aching something painful, and sometimes, all while his cock is left hard between his legs.

Jason is set up to fail but that's the catch.

That he is theirs, through and through, or at least until they are through with him.

Thomas comes up on the bed with them, and he’s still in most of his Owlman costume, the cowl pushed back to reveal his face, his pants undone, cock jutting out, hard and curving and red at the head. Jason nods to any demand they can make of him from where his face is turned to them, says _okay_.

Dick smiles, showing teeth, reaches around and spreads the cheeks of his ass wide apart, brandishing a slick pink hole for Thomas to fuck him from behind.

Like this, the sight of Jason sparks something terrible in Thomas.

Reminds him of his little brother with his black hair, blue eyes, that last touch of remorse in that shaky moral center. Bruce was, after all, the one he loved most.

It feels like a prelude that Jason will break at his hands too. Blood soaking into the carpets, blood splattering against the walls, a cold black handgun pressing against the bright red of that mouth goes blindingly hot when Thomas finally pulls the trigger. If that comes, it’s an end that Thomas can live with. The man pushes in to the hilt on the first thrust, slams home without pulling any strength with the full expectation that his boy will take him whole.

And he does, beautifully.

The rasp of a scream that rips out of Jason cuts short, making it perfect.

Thomas curls one arm around Jason’s waist, drags him bodily up from the mattress to his chest. His grip heavy with possession when he's got the line of Jason’s spine pressing against the front of the Owlman costume. Every catch and hidden zipper rub starkly against the expanse of pink flushed skin on every thrust, leaving lovely little scratches like fingernails against wood.

Ah-ahh, ah, _ah_.

Each gasp and moan and whine and mewl to fall from the plush of Jason’s mouth, Talon swallows down. And he is sincerely diligent with it too when he savours every last noise like it could be Jason’s last. Dick sinks his teeth into the tip of Jason’s tongue, bites until they can taste rust.

Like fresh blood in the open waters, it gets them both in a bit of frenzy, especially when Thomas isn’t swayed by the antics and keeps going at that same brutal pace.

Thomas pulls out until just the head of his cock catches at the rim of Jason’s hole, the thickest swollen part of the head stretching him out for a second that Jason feels keenly. And then Thomas is shoving right back in, sheathing himself all the way inside the clench of Jason’s body, feeling the way he squeezes down, all soft and wet and fever hot, pulsing perfectly all around him.

While Thomas keeps his other hand at Jason’s hip, pinning him still against him, Dick’s hands don’t stray far.

His fingers fleet from the bob of Jason’s Adam’s apple to the hollow of his throat, leans in with a swipe of tongue to lick the sweat pooling while he catches a nipple between two fingers. Dick lets his nails pinch into the tender flesh, pulling at it harshly until it stands erect, already looking puffy and red.

Dick feels himself harden painfully at the eager tilt as Jason pulls his head back, bares his throat like an open invitation, eyes squeezing shut while his jaw clenches down on a wince when Dick pinches him again.

Dick cannot _wait_.

For how Jason’s voice breaks the prettiest when he is subdued and sobbing between them. It’s the sight of Jason’s pupils blown wide, glittering wetly when Thomas leans down and tastes shared blood in their kiss. These are the tears to come, tasting like warm melted salt on the flat of his tongue.

And this is only the prelude for all the great things they can accomplish together.

**Author's Note:**

> (btw my 200+ subs promptathon is still running, and there are some slots left if anyone wants to send me anything else :DD i'm [setsailslash on tumblr](https://setsailslash.tumblr.com/ask))


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